4 Days in the Pacific
by Dark Inklings
Summary: Welcome to the Unemployment Center. Mello's young, mute, but genius son, Near, is a little hard to handle. Flushing video games down the toilet, messy grape juice, being left in a cab, he's the son of the mafia boss, that's for sure.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, sadly.**

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_4 Days in the Pacific_

**Prologue: It's His Life**

It's his life.

He chooses how to live.

It's his house.

He chooses to live in his single bedroom apartment in the slumps of San Francisco.

It's his call.

He chooses when to pull the trigger.

It's his baby.

He chooses to care and nurture his child.

That makes him a man…

And a father…

--

That was Mihael Keehl. Twenty years old, standing at a whopping five foot eight at a hundred sixteen pounds. His hair was short, above his shoulders, a brilliant beach colored blonde which did NOT match his demeanor one bit. Mihael had two piercing blue aqua colored eyes like always seemed to be dilated. That meant his pupils seemed a little too small for his eyes. But, one look from his sapphire irises sent a fifteen year old gang banger packing, running to the window. The fact that Keehl carried a small rifle in his pocket didn't help make him any less scary.

Mihael Keehl was called Mello though he wasn't mellow.

Always dressed in black leather, he walked the streets, his pride by his side, a half eaten chocolate bar jammed in his gloved hand. His stolen motorcycle was often his way of going about through the street lit nights of the Pacific coastline town, leaving a trail of thick, black smoke behind. The environment was not one of his close friends.

Things about Mello, meaning stuff he likes:

One is definitely chocolate. He'd die without the mouthwatering substance if he was somehow deprived of it. That's why jail wasn't an option. You could say chocolate was Mello's heroine.

Leather. He has to like the tight stuff if that's all he wore.

Black. He always wore black, even before the leather.

His mafia. Mello was the boss of a huge group of fellow slumanians. Yep, he and his fellow mafia were the ones feared the most in the city of San Francisco. Especially Mello…

Whatever Mello wanted, Mello got.

If that meant taking a life, he did.

Hostages weren't uncommon.

Nor was killing or strangling a cop, stripping them of their wallet and their life.

His motorbike. The metal contraption took him everywhere he wanted, what ore could he ask for?

Lastly, sluts. The name alone wasn't appealing but he could easily rid himself of the reoccurring problem of hormones through them. Not once did one get pregnant. If they did, he shot her…

Dislikes:

Cops. Why else would he shoot so many of them?

Children. God, those screaming sissies who never could shut up!

School. He dropped out at sixteen for a reason.

Rich bastards. They were WAY too full of themselves. Boy, would he love to fill those idiots with lead.

That was really it about Mello, his pros and cons.

A few other tips about this cop bounty hunter. Mello was temperamental and headstrong, thus the scar on the right side of his face from a shootout at a burning building. Because of his lack of self-control, Mello almost died, shooting down a rival mafia.

Luckily, he was pulled out by his best friend Matt, named really Mail Jeevas.

Also, Mihael was a genius. But, not the best due to his tendency to follow his instincts. That was his definite downfall.

--

Now that Mello was almost seventeen, he saw his life as perfect. The ruling mafia, cops off their back working on some serial murder case, and a girlfriend.

This was the girl. Perfect hair, perfect teeth, brains… She was the next America's Top Model. She had long flowing platinum hair, which was rare, she was albino, skinny, and short, no taller than five foot one.

Alison, the name of an angel.

Mello loved her and she loved Mello.

Spending days at a local café, chatting over coffee and kicking back.

Alison was a collage student getting by on a scholarship. She knew of Mello's mafia and she didn't think differently of him. Actually, she worried.

Every time he left, she'd say, "Come back safely."

He'd kiss her passionately then he shut the door, leaving her all alone in his one bedroom apartment in the slump of town.

One day, everything came crashing down.

Mello was sitting, shirtless, drinking some hot cocoa on his stool by the small but clean, tile counter. His black slacks were covering his heated legs.

Another sleepless night with Allison. He loved it. Every week, one day was spent in his bed, not a speck of sleep coming anytime soon. Of course they used protection.

Nothing could go wrong…right?

Another small sip of his hot chocolate, the small hand radio switched onto metal, Mello's favorite music. He didn't have a TV or an oven. One torn sofa, two stools, a small stock of food in the cabinets, no fridge, a small radio, that was it. Mello was content.

Allison came out in her silk whit gown, a look of forlorn written all over her china face.

She slowly went to Mello's side, over the stained red, chunky carpet, stopping beside his stool.

"Mornin' Ally," Mello said softly, planting a small kiss on her cheek.

Allison chuckled, embracing her boyfriend lovingly, a smile gracing her lips.

"Mel?" Allison started, tearing the embrace.

"Hmm?" Mello sipped his hot cocoa again.

Allison's face panned down, her hair falling in front of her face.

"I'm pregnant…"

Mello literally spit out his hot chocolate, brown drops splattering all over the counter.

"WHAT!?" His furious eyes pierced Allison, sending knives of pain through her heart.

Crack.

"I'm pregnant," she squeaked again, looking to Mello with tearful onyx eyes.

"Wha how? We used" Mello stared to protest.

"Condoms and birth control aren't a guarantee."

Mello lowered his head, his blonde hair plunging in front of his face. His world was over. This was reality. Reality was never sweet. It was sour.

"Get out…"

"What?" Allison took a small step back.

Mello's sharp eyes flamed up. "GET OUT!"

Allison whimpered. "Wh-why?"

"Slut! Get the fuck out!" he screamed, sprinting to the bedroom.

Slamming open the drawer and slapping out her bag, he stuffed it full of clothing and her other things.

He chucked out a thousand dollars from the last bank heist and stuffed it in the bag, zipping it loudly.

Behind him was a scared Allison, who was withdrawn from reality.

"Here. Have the thousand dollars and GET OUT," Mello glowered, hurling the bag towards Allison's still, bare feet.

"Mello," she whispered, on the verge of tears.

"Out," Mello said, turning his back to her.

"Tell me why, Mello, tell me," Allison said softly, hiding her face in a blanket of snow colored hair as she picked up her bag.

The darkness overcame light, the room was shadowed.

"I don't want a damned family," he cursed, his back still turned.

"I see. I won't give up my baby Mello, not for you."

Allison felt her heart tear, disappearing and turning to stone. All she felt was anger, bitterness replacing the love she once held.

With that, she took her bag and walked out of the room, still in her transparent gown. Out into the cold, gone forever, leaving Mello to weep quietly.

The perfect alternate realty burst into pieces. That mirror broke that day, the pieces to never to be reassembled again. Shattered into crimson pieces, a reflection scattered into another universe.

_Goodbye my perfect world…_

--

Allison left. Mello never saw her again.

That night, a cop was sliced through the stomach by a knife.

Nine months later…

The snow reigned down, covering the sidewalks of the graffiti walkways I blankets of pure snow. Snow was odd, especially for coastlines. But this was no ordinary town.

Mello, in his black leather and fur coat, stomped over the fluffy, frozen water, leaving deep holes behind from his black boots.

Thoughts remained in his head.

Allison…

The baby…

He loved Alison, yes, but he didn't want a family.

No, that wasn't right.

It was more…it was more like Mello feared it. How could one man who isn't an illegal adult care for another being? That kind of pressure made Mello think of the afterlife, after shooting himself in the head, after plunging a blade through his abdomen…

After the incident and falling out with his own family, Mello hadn't an idea of how to properly care for one, let alone do it himself, considering the fact that he is an unemployed mafia boss didn't help much either.

A frozen flake fell to Mello's face, on his scar from the dull gray, smog filled, sky above.

His face panned up to the sky.

_Why, why me? Why did this happen to me? God fucking dammit! _

His teeth gritted together, his lips forming into a low frown as the heels of his boots clicked against the concrete below. A pile of muddied snow flew above his ankles, hitting a tin trashcan a few feet away, creating a loud panging sound as the lid rumbled above.

Cerulean irises stared into the sky.

_Why?_

Cars zoomed by, leaving tracks of contaminated snow, some bits splattering onto Mello's coat.

Mello didn't move, he didn't yell, he didn't curse. He stayed perfectly still like a statue.

Without a sound escaping his icy lips, he stomped off, leaving sorrowful tracks fleetingly behind for they were to be filled with the rare coastline snowfall. A memory that would live for a lifetime…

--

It was close to midnight when Mello stumbled back to his rundown apartment complex. He was exhausted to say the least. A shootout with experienced SWAT members wasn't easy. Especially when they mistake you for another mafia, the wrong one, thinking you have a large Meth lab somewhere underground and they charge in, armed and fully ready to arrest you.

The SWAT members were appropriately punished for their actions though. Luckily, Mello's mafia suffered minor injuries.

Mello stumbled through the doors of the apartment and up the creaky stairs to his second floor room.

With a loud sigh, Mello collapsed to his knees beside his door, panting heavily.

"Crap, why did they have to be so damn persistent," Mello cursed, sinking to his knees, resting his back on the flat of the peeling wall.

The hallway, short and dark, was empty, as usual. The lights were off, or they stopped working. Mello hardly paid any notice to it.

Mello's eyes scanned the hallway as he wheezed, seeing something in the corner of his eye that interested him.

It was small, some sort of five stick looking thing lightly swaying above. By the shadows, Mello could tell whatever was in there was covered by a blue blanket. It looked seemingly like a bundle of blue, kinda circular, with something inside.

_What is it?_ Mello pondered, staggering reluctantly to his feet.

After stumbling a few yards, he was next to the lightly moving blue bundle.

_It's…!_

Mello's eyes widened to full capacity, hardly believing what was in front of him.

Its eyes were onyx, a full head of platinum hair with a gray tint, and pallid yet pudgy skin.

It was…a baby…

…One that looked like Allison…

"Hey, what're you doin' out in a place like this?" Mello asked sweetly, pinching the baby's cheek. For a baby, he was skinny. (Mello checked…)

His cheek stretched a bit, his lips separating as Mello pulled. The baby was silent though which struck Mello as odd.

"Aren't babies supposed to cry?" Mello chuckled, letting go of the child's red cheek. The stubborn baby grunted.

Mello shrugged.

He picked up the bundle and carried it into his room, switching on the lights.

A small paper fell from the bundle as Mello placed the silent infant on the torn up sofa.

"Hmm?" Mello bent down, taking the small binder paper between his fingers. Then, he opened it.

All went still.

_Dear Mello,_

_I can't take it anymore._

_With college and my life._

_I can't go on like this._

_I was kicked out of my home, out of my scholarship._

_Take him, take him…_

_His name is Nate Rivers. Now he is Nate Keehl._

_He is yours._

_You were the one who forced me to so he's your responsibility._

_In a few years, when I get my life together, I'll come and get him._

_Please Mello, for me._

_Please take care of him_

_Love,_

_Allison_

The breath in his throat hitched, air filling in his lungs, not releasing from his throat.

_Allison…_

Mello looked down at the now sleeping infant on the couch.

A baby…

His baby…

_Allison… Damn you. But…you have a point… I am the child's father, making me responsible for him but it's as much your job as it is mine._

Mello growled, crumpling the paper in his clenched fist.

His eyes traveled to the sleeping bundle of "joy." His eyes stayed closed peacefully, fluttering open a little.

Mello's face softened. His temper sizzled out. This baby made him feel…at ease…

That was impossible. Mello was never…mellow…

The paper swayed to the floor as Mello traveled to the couch which was only a few paces away.

Reaching down, he swooped the child into his arms, cradling little Nate.

Nate's eyes cracked open, revealing a fair shade of onyx underneath. Soft, pale, tiny fingers wound around Mello's large, rough pointer finger. They enclosed lightly, creating a blanket of warmth radiated around him. The warmth flooded through his veins, coursing through his body.

"Nate Keehl has a ring to it," Mello chuckled, Nate, whom was sucking his thumb, cradled in his arms.

The baby…no…Nate…stared up at him with obsidian colored eyes.

Yes, this was going to be hard but that was what Pacific landlubbers endured. That was what people in San Francisco did. They weren't aren't sissies. They're people, all fighting for survival.

This was the start of a brilliant adventure. For Mello…and for Nate… This was their story. A deprived father, his odd son.

But Mello won't quit.

He lives in the Pacific after all.

And we're all…

Survivors…

Spend four days in the Pacific and you'll know what I mean.

Four days, four babysitters, four years…

The next time you see Mello and Nate, four years will have already passed.

I am writing their story of love, of doubt, of genius, admiration, courage, of family and friendship.

Just spend four days in the Pacific…that's all I ask.

**end of prologue**

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**End of prologue, yay!! This took 3 days. THREE! Making it flow just right was hard. Hey, at least it's done. Oh, and the next chapter DOES take place four years later.**

**And I do plan on putting in these characters, as secondary characters:**

**-Matt (Mail Jeevas)**

**-L Lawliet**

**-Light Yagami**

**-Misa Amane**

**-Matsuda (And he acts like an idiot too, as usual...--)**

**-And Takada (As the rich snotty girl that Near...well, you'll see.)**

**If you want any others, you can request them.**

**Oc's are coming too. But only one probably.**

**R and R, I won't update till I have 2 or 3 reviews. (I'm starting low.)**

**And, language will get better; Mello's still an irresponsible teen.**


	2. Day I

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, just _4 Days in the Pacific_. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction, Matt, Mello, and L would've lived, and Takada would have been beheaded. So there.**

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Day I: Call a Plumber, Near was Here

Matt considered himself a well-tempered man who took life as it came. He was eighteen, Mello's best friend, and an avid gamer. Every week, he took a trip to GAME STOP or some sort of electronics store.

Most of his money was spent on his very valued PS2 games, Nintendo DS games, X-box, Gameboy, and any other electronic games he could track down.

Because of his addiction, he lived in an apartment similar to Mello's. But Matt had a red corvette. Then again, Mello had his motorcycle.

Another thing about Matt was his addiction to smoking. Every time Mello saw him, there was a cigarette hanging from his lips. Mello didn't really mind Matt's smoking though.

Like Mello, Matt is just an alias. Matt was really Mail Jeevas. They came up with those aliases a long time ago.

Going to school together, Mello and Matt were close. In fact, Matt bails Mellow out of jail almost every time.

Though they're almost like brothers, Matt never joined the mafia. Matt was too levelheaded for that.

Unlike Mello, Matt dressed in a striped, long sleeved shirt in the colors black and red. Over that was a cream vest with white fluff on the chest, ends, and other various parts of the vest. The collar was raised a bit as well. Red tinted goggles tended to be wrapped around his eyes, protecting his face from harmful rays when he drove. Normally, he wore black gloves to keep his hands from the chilling frost and black boots that held up to his ankles. Lastly, he wore baggy blue jeans.

One thing was for sure, Matt was far more mature than Mello.

Then, Near came along.

Legally an adult, Matt lived alone in his one room, crappy, to say the least, apartment room.

Games were scattered along the gray carpet, wires and cords scattered every which way. To Matt, this felt like home. To Mello, this was just a mess of cords.

As usual, Matt had McDonalds for breakfast, driving the night before and ordering takeout, then he dumped it on the counter and went to bed. Thank God for all night customer service.

Munching on a biscuit in his smoggy room, Matt sat on his barstool he purchased from a garage sale, watching TV, his chair turned to the medium sized screen as some anime on manmade robots broadcasted.

Two knocks and Matt was groggily on his feet. He wasn't upset, just tired.

"What?" he groaned when he got to the door, barely managing to swing it open. "Huh?"

His best friend and his son were at the door, hands linked.

Nate, Mello's son who never spoke, four now, always seemed to be dressed in pajamas. His clothes, white and baggy, like sleepwear. But what was odd, besides his big curiosity about the things around him, was the fact that he never spoke. Yet, he had the writing skills of a seven year old. The first word he wrote was Near, thus that became his alias.

Mello took Near to a doctor, thinking something was abnormal about his throat.

"His throat is perfectly fine," said the doctor, "try a therapist."

Mello took Near to an expensive therapist using the money saved from a past bank heist.

"Whatever I do, this boy will not speak. Maybe he has something undeveloped in his brain," said the therapist.

And back at the doctors…

"Everything seems fine, there's nothing wrong with his brain," the doctor said when he came back with the X-rays.

Then what was wrong?

That remained a mystery to everyone.

Near looked nothing like Mello, no, he was a replica of Allison. A daily reminder of Mello's mistake which Mello hated.

Matt never really saw Near though, let alone baby-sit him.

But with Mello quitting the mafia, almost getting killed, and getting a job at a fast-food joint, things were a little tough.

"Hey Matt, I need a favor," Mello said, giving a nervous smile.

Matt, who wasn't wearing his goggles or a shirt for that matter, blinked, surprised at the sudden visit.

_I don't like where this is going._ Matt started to worry.

"I need you to watch Near," Mello said, putting a fatherly hand on top of his son's white covered head. Near kept his usual face, stoic and unemotional.

"What?" Matt gaped.

Mello never trusted Near to anyone. NEVER.

"My idiot of a boss told me I can't bring him to work after he put mustard on someone's milkshake."

"Uh…"

"Good, thanks, I'll pick him up later!" Mello raced out of the hall before Matt could object.

"What? Wait! Mel…o…crap," Matt groaned.

He looked at the kid below him. The one who was vertically impaired.

_This is awkward. _

Matt rubbed the back of his head, brown hairs being combed through his fingers.

It was always awkward around Near, who was the polar opposite of Mello. That made it even harder for Matt.

One thing was for sure…Mello just shot him in the foot.

--

Silently, Near played with some random letter blocks he had in his blue bag that Mello left with him. The R stayed on the bottom, wooden with red paint along the edges, the green painted A above, the yellow E third lowest, with the blue N on the very top.

Near could spell, yes, but Matt didn't notice his progress. He was too busy playing _Kingdom Hearts_ on his PS2 on the floor, pushing buttons rapidly, the silver controller in his hands.

Striped in red and black, goggles on his face, Matt's fingers moved like groundhogs on Groundhog Day.

Sora slashed in the air, black demons being hit various times, white winds flowing in two rows around him. The black demon, that resembled a two footed bug, burst into spheres of green and yellow, falling to the floor.

More black creatures swarmed the spiky haired hero.

"Stupid Heartless, stupid expert mode," Matt growled under his breath, moving his fingers faster as his temper began to flare. Matt was a sore loser when it came to video games.

Five, agonizing hours later…

"Yes! I beat _Kingdom Hearts_!" Matt pumped his fist in the air, his controller in his lap.

Near was now doing a thousand piece puzzle, putting in a white piece. It was supposed to be the Castle of England or something like that. He sat Indian style, the puzzle on the hard red rug that was on the floor. Mello swore up-and-down that the rug was made of rock but Matt said it was an antique from his grandmother or something like that.

That rug kept Near's puzzle together. Now it was over half finished.

Once again, Matt failed to notice for he was busy flailing his arms eccentrically in the air.

Near tuned out from Matt's constant babbling about Heartless and Keyblades, instead, his full attention was on the puzzle he very much desired to finish.

_I have nothing to do now; I finished all my other games. So what's keeping me from going to Game Stop?_

Matt grinned like a Cheshire cat, flashing his white teeth.

He crawled on his knees, outstretching his arm to switch of the small TV after he removed the PS2 game and switching off the console.

_Dude, I haven't been to Game Stop for over forty eight hours, I need my store!_

Jumping to his feet, Mail Jeevas grabbed his cream colored vest off the back of the barstool, slipped into a pair of boots and gloves, and snatched his car keys from the counter, sprinting out the door, slamming it behind him.

He bolted for the apartment parking lot and for his red Corvette, driving away like a maniac.

Then again, he always did that. But this time, it was for _Kingdom Hearts II_.

--

Inside Burger King, a blonde, blue-eyed man was taking orders from a middle aged tourist from England.

Clad in a white buttoned shirt, black pants, and a white hat with **Burger King **stitched in black letters along the front.

Seeing as San Francisco was such a tourist attraction, it was always busy, especially with the cashiers like Mihael Keehl.

After the plump, English woman walked away to fill up her empty soda cup, Mello heaved a great sigh.

_God, I hope Matt is watching Near and not just playing some stupid game. I'll kill him if he is. He knows that money's been tight with us. Between the apartment payments, electricity bills, water bills, electricity bills, and money for Near's toys, it's been impossible to be unemployed. B_

A kind looking woman with caramel locks flowing down her shoulders dressed in an array of spring colors. A long, light green top and a long skirt the same shade ending at her brown sandaled two inch heels. That made her only five foot five. Emerald irises pierced through Mello as she gracefully stepped to the order her meal.

With her small bag strap wrapped around her shoulder, her bag between her arms and body, she stopped, a kind smile played on her lips, her strawberry lip-gloss glittering in the light of the restaurant.

Mello was shocked that a girl like her even existed. She looked perfect.

A few moments of silence came upon the cashier and his customer. The air caught in Mello's throat, bubbling into a lump.

"W-What c-can I get you?" he croaked.

_Damn, that came out bad!_

The woman chuckled. "I'll take a small strawberry milkshake."

"T-That'll be two ninety five," Mello said, lightening up, remembering the price in his head.

_I'm surprised she's not repulsed by me. I would've figured the scar on my face would have scared her. Maybe she's not a snob…_

"Mm," the woman mumbled, digging through her purse, "you don't take Japanese currency, do you?" she smiled sadly, looking back up at Mello with her emerald eyes.

Mello opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a deep voice.

"No, we don't. If you have no money, we cannot give you your order," Buck spoke up.

Buck (Burgan Simmons) was a hefty, stout man, black hairs sprouting from around the edges of his face. He was Mello's boss as well.

But, they clashed.

Buck was too headstrong, like Mello. Buck was much ruder to women though, being arrested for wife beating proved that fact.

Mello was much more chivalrous.

"You can take her money and exchange it at the bank," Mello argued, glaring at his boss.

Giving a loud grunt, Buck responded with, "That's her job, not ours."

Buck smirked, crossing his hairy arms across his chest. There was no way Mello was done.

"Doesn't the customer come first?" Mello snapped.

Buck dropped his arms back to his side, glaring back at Mello who glared back equally.

"No customer gets served without money."

"She has money." Mello swung his body over the counter easily, jumping in front of Buck, glowering down at him.

"Not the correct currency," Buck grunted, glaring up and taking a step forward making Mello take a step back.

By now, all the customers (and employees) were gathered in a crowd around them.

"It's still money," Mello argued, stepping forward, making Buck step back.

Mello stepped a few more paces, making Buck hit his back on a wall.

Mello had him right where he wanted him.

Buck, still glaring, finally admitted defeat, knowing Mello could and _would _beat him to a pulp if he upset him enough.

"Fine, but it's coming out of your paycheck." Buck gave a forceful shove, pushing Mello back a few steps and he walked back to the kitchen, glaring at the now frightened employees who weren't at their posts.

Kids booed, adults frowned, mostly at Buck. But they weren't fond of Mello either. Little boys marveled at his scar, little girls were grossed out, and mothers and fathers ranted on about not being like him.

Prejudices made parenting easier Mello supposed.

After he got back behind the counter, swinging himself over the countertop, he resumed his work post.

"Um." The woman, presumably a Japanese tourist, seemed nervous, probably about the previous quarrel between the hateful boss and dangerous employee.

"Since he took the money from my paycheck, your drink is already prepaid. So you get it free," Mello grinned.

_Maybe this will make a good impression._

"T-That's not right though. I should pay." The woman opened her purse and started to sort through her wallet.

"No."

The woman looked up, clearly confused.

"Why?"

_It's official, my boss is an ass._

"It's not your fault Buck's a bastard." Mello rested his chin on his fist, his elbow propped on the counter.

Her tense shoulders eased and someone from the back handed Mello the milkshake.

With a triumphant smile, Mello slid the drink across the counter.

"Now, that'll be a name."

The woman smiled. "It's Satsuki Yomatsuru."

"Well Satsuki, come back any time," Mello grinned.

Satsuki picked up her moist cup, taking a small sip of the thick, pink, red seeded liquid from the straw.

"I will."

With that, the ever so radiant Satsuki stepped out of the two clear doors of Burger King and into the streets of a buzzing city.

Mello looked to the lit ceiling, unblinking as the blinding rays filled his irises.

_I wonder how Near's doing._

--

Mail Jeevas was inside the crowded store called Game Stop, which was his favorite electronics store.

He'd definitely go sober for the chance to live in this store.

Without trails of smoke coming from his lips for a change, he stood in the PS2 section, scanning the back of the KH2 video game.

Other teens with similar hobbies to Matt's walked by, laughing among their small group of friends, some with bags from other stores.

This Game Stop was one of the many stores in the long chain made especially for the tourists.

The store clerk, who was a close friend of Matt's, walked by, seeming to be helping a customer find a Nintendo game, gave Matt a gleeful wave. Matt smiled, looking from the back of his game.

_Hmm, good graphics, good fighting system, I'll take it. But I can't shake the feeling that I'm forgetting something…_

The gamer's gloved hand enclosed on the game cover.

"What am I forgetting? I know it's something important…" Matt looked up at a movie add by the counter off to his right.

A woman with white hair and blue eyes in a silver gown was on the banner, looking terrified, blood splattered all over the front of her dress. It was the add for a horror flick, that was for certain.

_Platinum hair…why does that ring a…crap…_

The game, diskless luckily, dropped out of his hands.

Matt's body seemed to turn to stone. If any mistake was the biggest, this took the cake. Mello was going to fill him with lead when he heard about this one. Spending three hours in town without Mello's son, Matt was in for it.

Suddenly, it got really hot, sweat trickling from Matt's forehead and it was NEVER warm in San Francisco.

Nervousness filled Matt's mind with thoughts of how Mello was going to murder him.

_Is he going to fill me with lead, stab me, or strangle me?_

Another trickle of sweat rolled down the ridge of Matt's nose.

Suddenly, the doors were swinging to and fro; the figure of Matt was gone as he raced to the car to the four year old abandoned in his cheap apartment complex.

--

Panting heavily, Mail Jeevas burst through the door, stumbling forward afterward.

His eyes scanned the room frantically as he slammed the car keys on the counter.

_Where's Near?_

The puzzle lay on the rock hard rug, complete, all one thousand pieces in place.

Matt didn't notice though, nope, he was too busy looking for Near.

Under couch cushions, under the bed, in the kitchen cabinets, everywhere, Matt searched. Near wasn't anywhere. He was gone.

Matt could picture it now. His gravestone, his deathbed, he was a dead man.

And no one would miss the gamer.

Suddenly, a flushing noise came from across the hall.

The only place he didn't check was the bathroom.

At Buzz Lightyear speed, Matt sped from the bedroom to the bathroom a few yards away.

The white, chipped door was shut but judging by the golden knob and keyhole in it, it wasn't locked.

"Near, can I come in?" Matt called, knocking on the door lightly.

Flush.

_What the hell is he doing in there?_

"I'm coming in," Matt announced, putting his hand on the cold knob sheltered in cheap golden paint which was chipping off.

He pushed open the door, expecting something that shouldn't be said but what he saw was much, much worse.

It was his worst nightmare.

There was Near in his PJ like clothes, sitting on the bathroom floor. In his hands were many Gameboy and Nintendo games. He innocently emptied the pile in his hands into the toilet, pulling the silver handle, flushing forty dollars worth of games down the toilet, literally.

Beside Near was a basket, over half empty, that Matt for storage of his Gameboy and Nintendo games. Over a hundred dollars worth of games were in there and now, half were down the toilet.

Matt's body became rigid, he found himself frozen in place, in utter shock.

Near was the devil's spawn. He was Mello's son alright.

Innocently, Near looked up at Matt, gathering ay scattered games into the basket and Matt watched him. He watched as Near walked out of the room. He watched as Near set the basket by the TV and watched as he plopped down by his puzzle and tore it apart, putting chunks into the wooden box and closing it with the hollow, cardboard lid.

That day, everything changed for Mail Jeevas. For the first time in his life, he fainted.

Yup, he blacked out and fell to the ground. All that over some flushed video games.

Have to say, that was very wimpy.

--

Light poured into his eyes, the darkness being drowned out. But his head felt like crap. It was like someone had shoved poor Matt into the washer. His legs felt like fat-free gelatin, numb but flexible, sorta like he had lost all of the bones in his legs.

_Huh, where am I?_

Wearily, Matt sat up, feeling the cold ice pack on his head.

"Yo," a familiar voice greeted.

Matt looked to his right to see Mello, in black leather, as usual, with a smile on his face. Then he saw him. Near. The little sprite was working on yet another puzzle.

_Didn't he just do one?_

Holding the icepack to his head, which was just melted ice in a plastic bag, Matt stayed in his own world of thoughts that clouded his thinking. That same feeling of forgetfulness washed over him yet again and yes, he didn't know what he was forgetting but it was important.

"So, you're watching Near tomorrow, right?" Mello confirmed, knocking Matt out of his dazed state.

"Huh, yeah, sure," Matt mumbled, not paying much attention to what Mello was saying.

"Oh, where did your games go? The basket is practically empty," Mello said.

The events of Near and the toilet filled Matt's mind with nightmares. He remembered, and like before, it wasn't a happy memory.

A rumbling noise jolted the room.

"And I think you need a plumber, you're toilet's been making that sound since I got here." Mello looked across the hall from his spot on the living room carpet.

Completely frozen, Matt's mind hamster (the one running in the wheel that helps people in cartoons think) fell out of the wheel stiffly, falling dead onto the imaginary ground Matt made up for Henry, his now dead hamster, in his head.

Since Henry was dead…

Matt couldn't take it anymore so he blacked out…again…

As you could assume, Matt never babysat Near after that, no matter the begging Mello did.

To Matt, Near was the plumber's worst nightmare.

**end of day I**

* * *

**Last night, I was on page 3! I finished 10 pages in 3 or 4 hours. Ugh, thank god for YOUTUBE!! **

**Near's quite the troublemaker, isn't he? I made him that way for the fun of it. Poor Mattie, yeah, he'll go get new games, so...**

**Next time, it's L babysitting! It is all planned out but it will be out between Saturday or Sunday since I'm getting_ Death Note: Another Note_ tomorrow in the mail and since L is in it, I'll be reading a lot.**

**6 reviews then I'll release the next chapter. (I got 3 under 24 hours so what's another 3 in two days.) **

**Oh, and expect Takada bashing. I like these characters the best in the series:**

**-L**

**-Matt**

**-Mello**

**-Misa**

**So no, there will be NO Misa bashing. End of story. But, I need ideas for chapters 6 and on. Review and give me some, I might use them!**

**Till I get 6 reviews, see ya!**


	3. Day II

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note...if I did, Mello wouldn't be dead. **

* * *

**Day II: Glow in the Dark Near**

_How in the world did I get myself involved again? Oh, yes, now I remember…_

Two pale hands planted firmly on the gray, leather wheel, steered the green, undercover minivan through the empty streets of downtown San Francisco. The tin garbage cans were knocked over, junk of various shapes and sizes littered along the gum covered, deserted sidewalks. Buildings with broken casements running along the middles made clear that these edifices were abandoned and by the looks of it, that had been arranged a long while ago.

Onyx eyes, like that belonging to Mihael Keehl's heir, kept straight, staring intently at the vacant road ahead.

Finding the three-sided, abandoned apartments, L Lawliet pulled in his van with ease, his foot barely on the gas pedal.

Overestimating the enemy was the key to this stakeout. Hunting down five notorious robbers with exceeding bribery skills and fast wits was hard, even the best, underpaid detective in the California coastline had to admit that.

These guys were no amateurs. Locating their hideout was no cakewalk for L or the task force. But, after three months, the hideout was revealed and it was all up to L to put these guys in the slammer.

There was just one problem though…

A silent Near sat in the backseat of the van, playing with finger puppets that were replicas of some random cartoon Near didn't watch. Mello just bought them in some cheesy garage sale for half off.

L was in distress. How Mello had conned him into watching his troublemaking son was still a mystery to this detective. One minute, Mello was on the doorstep to L's condominium and the next minute, Near was standing alone, bag in tow, as Mello sped off on his motorcycle.

Seeing as this was a last minute thing, L had no choice but to let the little mute demon tag along on his escapade.

But, with the incident with Matt, who had taken the liberty to warn the detective futilely, the detective had to admit that a chill ran up his spine when his eyes met the child's.

L was five years older than Mello, making him twenty five, and like Mello, his intelligence was top notch. Mello modeled himself after L, both having an odd way about them. Mello and chocolate as to L and sweets, mostly cake. L walked and sat oddly, walking barefooted often in the streets, the few times he went out in public, and with his tendency to perch on his feet when he sat, even in an office chair. The deep, black bags under his eyes made it look like he never slept, which he hardly did for that matter, sleeping only on Sundays and on Thursdays. Wearing baggy clothes, mostly a baggy T and dark pants, L spent his days solving cases in front of a screen, keeping his identity a secret from everyone but the task force who took a vow not long ago to keep L's identity a secret. Only a select few knew L in person, Watari, L's sergeant father, working under him, knowing him the best personally.

But, like any normal person, L had a dream. His dream was to be the owner of a chain of cake shops. They didn't have to be popular; they just had to serve cake. L had Watari run to the local sweet shop regularly to pick up his rather large order of monster sized cakes.

Today, sadly, was not a day to visit L's favorite cake shop.

Pulling into an empty underground parking hole, L parked in an empty space, shutting off the engine, leaning into the gray, felted chair. Pelted I darkness, L and Near had to squint to see each other. No lights, just the dulled out sky in the distance from the cloudy day resuming outside.

Twirling his hair, Near rested his hand on his lap, looking from his car seat, over the seatbelt, into the shadows of the day.

Taking a deep sigh, L looked out the car window.

_They must be on an upper level, likely hidden somewhere in this building. I wouldn't expect anything but some sort of trap for us. I should be on my guard, more or less._

Putting a tender thumb to his lip, pulling lightly at his lower lip, L leaned back casually in his chair.

_If this is a trap, they could me more cunning than what we had anticipated. If that's the case, I might have to call for backup, seeing as it's an entire gang against me. _

Pursing his lips with minor irritation, L took a brief glance towards Near.

_Mello is certainly making this harder for me. _

His gaze switched out the window again.

_I am ninety-two percent sure they don't know we're here but I still have the disadvantage. Since taking them into custody isn't an option, just setting up some sort of surveillance or catching them in the act with a recorder would work as evidence to have the police arrest them. But, if I am caught, I'm ninety-nine percent sure I would be killed. This would be easier if Wedy was here to install the cameras. But seeing as to how I am alone in this, I must do it myself._

L pressed the red release button on the seatbelt, leaning back to grab the bag beside Near's seat. After he got hold of the bag and pulled it to the vacant seat beside him, L pulled out a small tape recorder, tucking it into an unoccupied pocket in his pants. Then, he pulled out a small square shaped mechanism that was the shape of his hand. A large, red button was in the middle, a tiny light bulb above it.

By now, Near had started playing with a normal sized rubrics cube. But, seeing how his vision was limited, he wasn't all that far.

Swinging the upper half of his body over the glove compartment, L plastered on a small smile. Seeing as how he was dealing with a child, it was best not to scare him.

"Near, I will be out of the van for awhile. When a stranger comes to this car, press this button," L said, using a demonstrative push. The little bulb glowed red for about ten seconds, fading away slowly. When the button was pushed, the matching one L had, but without the button, vibrated. This one was tucked into L's other pocket. So, now L could _feel _whenever Near pressed the button.

It was a safety precaution, an invention that L had created when he was just nine.

"Alright?" L confirmed.

Near nodded, the rubrics cube beside him on the seat and the contraption in his hand.

With a small, satisfied smile, L pulled back, looking out the window once more.

There was no gun, no Childs play; it was an honest attempt, at L's part anyway.

Scanning the immediate area, everything seemed clear…

With a small click, the car door swung open, L's arm stopping it halfway. He climbed out carefully and quietly, both feet on the ground. The car light flashed on, illuminating the direct vicinity around the car. Black tarred and dried roads, hardened with small pebbles and little pieces of debris around, white lines scuffed with age, that's all L saw. Seeing as the coast was clear, L internally sighed, relived he wasn't in any danger, as of yet. After checking the area around him again, L shut the door quietly, making the car lights fade off once more.

As the lights faded, L did too. His figure's illumination weakening. Soon enough, the sweet-loving detective was gone.

--

Once again, Mello was at the front counter, acting as Burger King's cashier.

But this time, Mello was hardly worried about Near. He knew that L was trustworthy, actually, he was a hundred percent sure that L was responsible.

After taking an order from a mother of four, Mello propped himself up on one elbow, taking the time to relax.

Thank goodness Buck was on vacation! All the employees were glad too.

With a small ring, another new customer walked in, goggles not on his face and black shirt and blue jeans, a cigarette poking from his lips, smoke trailing behind as he walked.

Stopping at the counter, he said very calmly, "Yo."

Mello gaped. "Matt?"

Matt never came to Burger King. It was always the McDonalds down the street from his crappy apartments.

He puffed out another cloud of smoke. "In the flesh." His leathered fingers formed a scissors like sign that tilted to the side.

"Why are you here?" Mello asked, raising a blonde brow.

"I'm appalled, Mello, your own buddy can't visit you while you're working," Matt gasped dramatically, putting a hand over his mouth.

"Cut the crap Matt," Mello growled.

"Sheesh, touchy much," Matt said, swatting his hand back-and-forth.

"Move Matt, you're blocking the line," Mello snarled.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever Mel," Matt dismissed, looking back behind him.

About ten different faces, all whom Matt never met, were glaring at him. He was blocking the way to the cashier.

Matt chuckled nervously to them, rubbing the back of his head as he sidestepped away, off to the side where he wouldn't be in the way.

As usual, it took Mello a full ten minutes to finish up all of the orders. By that time, Matt had pulled out his Gameboy and started to play some game that Near hadn't flushed down the toilet, leaning against a vacant table.

After the customers were gone, satisfied with Mello's "performance", Matt returned to the counter, a sly smirk on his lips. His game was tucked into his back pocket when he got there.

"What?" Mello groaned, realizing he would have to find out sooner or later. After all, Matt was not someone who ventured from his home quite often.

Mello noticed Matt looked…um…normal for a change. His hair was combed, gel keeping it from straying out of place, his brown eyes shining, goggle…less…? Wow, he wasn't wearing goggles, which was unusual.

Something was definitely up.

Lastly, Matt was wearing a black T and neat blue jeans, freshly washed.

"Wow, what the- why are you dressed up?" Mello said, trying not to look too surprised.

"What, too dressy?" Matt asked.

"Uh…Matt, man, you're scaring me."

"Actually, I need to see your boss" Matt started.

"Buck," Mello finished, raising a brow.

"Yeah, him," Matt said.

"He's on vacation, thank god."

"Then who's in charge, I need a job," Matt admitted, sounding a little irritable.

"A…job…?" Mello gaped. "Since when did you work?" Mello raised his voice a little, causing customers to stare curiously.

Seriously, could anyone mind their own business?

"Yeah, because of your son," Mat spat, "I'm in debt. The damn plumber costs a fortune! All he did was fix my toilet and it cost like a hundred and fifty bucks! That's not including the games Near flushed!"

"Calm down, no one's in charge so I can just give you a job," Mello said.

It was true. No one was left in charge. And hey, what was one more helping hand.

"Seriously?" Now it was Matt's turn to gape.

Mello nodded proudly.

"So how does minimum wage sound to you?" Mello smirked.

"Sounds good to me. Money is money," Matt grinned.

Little did he know that Mello liked to work people like dogs. Poor Matt…

--

L had been gone quite awhile. Now it was just Near, alone, in a dark truck. It was one hundred percent dangerous to be there to even begin with.

The rubrics cube in Near's hands remained unsolved for Near did not have enough light to even see the colored squares.

Next to him, in the middle seat, in the back of course, was the safety tool L had given Near, the button not yet pressed.

The darkness was getting on Near's nerves. Not only was this irritating but it was stressful.

Teeth clenched, fingers grounded into the plastic cube, possibly making small scratches as they clawed over the artificial surface.

Silently gritting his teeth, Near threw the colorful block to the side, making a small thumping sound as it hit the seat. Bouncing like a rubber ball, it rolled, flipping over blindly to the car floor.

Near's hand moved back behind him, resting on the flat of the seat behind him. A hard lump was under his hand, it was squared, judging by the sharp but smooth edges, cold, covered in metal with paint slicked over the surface, another lump above that was smaller, and an easily pressed button below the small bump.

Looking behind him curiously, Near spotted the tetragon shaped gift L had given him…if it was a gift at all, which it wasn't.

A wide yet coy smile curled on Near's lips, his lips stretching uncharacteristically.

His hands outstretched to the lonesome item, picking it up, the coldness of it rushing to his veins. But Near did not drop it. It stayed flat in his pastel hand.

The onyx colored irises went to the button, his finger delicately pushing down on its shell, hardly touching it at all. Rather quickly, as if expecting it to bite, Near pulled his hand away. The bump above the button flashed bright red, illuminating Near and the seat behind him.

The smile Near held came back to his lips. This was his light now.

Leaning down, he picked up the spilled rubrics cubed.

This was going to be fun.

--

L had made it up to where the crooks were hiding, the tiny recorder in his back pocket. He was crouched down, in the shadows, behind the corner of the wall.

His ears were open, listening intently; his eyes squinted, trying to peek through the darkness.

But he remained perfectly still nonetheless.

Suddenly, a vibration came from L's back pocket. It wasn't a big jolt but it startled him. His feet almost slipped and that would've caused him to fall on his face and into the view of the very much armed and dangerous crooks.

Luckily, he didn't fall.

His left foot skidded a little, tilting to the right, halting quickly. L's lips formed a hard line.

He certainly didn't like where this was going.

When he finally froze in place, his left foot was a few inches from being revealed, stretching him like a gymnast, which, in any case, he wasn't good at doing the splits which was approaching rapidly, and the rest of his body was in place.

Then, the vibrating stopped.

Sighing, L took out the vibrating demon from his pocket.

The red light was blinking on and off.

Near was in trouble.

--

Colored squares moved quickly with loud snaps and clicks as they came into place. Red illuminated the car's interior.

The light faded.

Near's pale fingers barely pressed the red button on the contraption in his lap. Soon enough, the light returned.

Now, let me clarify a few things. Instead of using the dome light in the front, he used the mechanism L had given him. Seeing as he was four years old, he never noticed the lights available to him inside the car.

As the red faded again, a figure came into view. He was sprinting rather fast but managed to keep his unusual slouched posture.

The man reached the car, panting and looking into the window.

There, he saw a curious Near staring up at him, pressing the button absentmindedly.

L couldn't help but gape.

Near wasn't in trouble. He was using the contraption as a source of light.

With his pale, sticklike fingers, L motioned for Near to use the old fashioned lever to pull down the window.

Near did as he was told.

Putting his hand in, L stretched it out to look like he was a hobo begging for money to buy liquor.

Near put the rubrics cube in his hand. A few moments later, L had hid the rubrics cube in the trunk of the car and pulled out from Near's bag some finger puppets. He wouldn't need light for that.

After giving Near the puppets, L shut and locked the now open car door and trunk, making sure Near had rolled up the window before he left.

Wordlessly, he left again in the darkness.

--

Near was bored…no…he was deathly bored. He was on the verge of dying from boredom. Stuck in the dark with only five finger puppets. Damn, that was pitiful.

The little squared device came into view…maybe on little press wouldn't…

--

L was in place, knees bent, recorder…er…recording, and he was successfully hidden.

The little devil hadn't messed things up so…

Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

L's face sunk.

_Please tell me I am hallucinating?_

Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

…_Damn…_

The next thing L knew it, he was on his feet.

He was ninety-nine percent sure that Near was fine but it was better to be safe than sorry.

It was Mello's son after all. Mello, the ex-leader of a cruel mafia that shaped the way the justice system operates today.

And L didn't want to be on anymore hit lists.

--

L considered himself a very patient man, tolerant of other's ignorance. Up until now, he never snapped. Up until now…

L stomped to the bare lot, knocking loudly on the car window. Near slowly rolled it down, giving him an innocent look. It said, "What'd I do?"

L held out his hand, grumbling to himself.

Near plucked the finger puppets off one by one, plopping them into L's pale palm.

"Do NOT press that button," L glowered, "unless it is necessary," he finished.

Stomping off on his heel, L left, putting the small toys in his back pocket.

Near rolled up the window as L walked off. One thing was on his mind.

Revenge!

--

Anger coursed in L's veins, his blood boiling with rage.

Why did Mello's son have to be so damn like him!? They both seemed to take pleasure in annoying the living HELL out of people. After that, they'd just shrug it off like it was nothing.

_Now is the time to focus. The suspects should start to plan out their next steps._

L tried to calm himself mentally and listened in.

The lights were dimmed in the room, only three figures illuminated in the shadows. One was tall, a black male, a little stubby with a clean shaved head. The next was a slightly shorter Caucasian male wearing a red beanie with brown whiskers poking out from his pale chin. A scar stretched across his unsheathed, muscled arm. The last was a Mexican man no taller than five four, his black hair poking out every which way.

"What now?" the black man asked.

"Hmm, well the Saturn Bank has a lot of money, why don't we hit there?" the Mexican suggested choppily. He wasn't very fluent in English.

"Yeah," the white man hissed, "that way, each gang gets enough money to buy some joints!"

_Bingo! _L cupped his ear, eager for more info to be leaked.

"We'll hit at"

Suddenly…

Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!!

The device in L's back pocket vibrated, causing L to jump. His feet shifted, making a small tap, his arms flaying wildly.

The small bump in L's pocket disappeared, falling to the floor with a loud PANG!

Metal hit cement.

L froze. Nervously, he looked up.

Three grim faces glowered down on him. They all had a gun in their belt, a pipe jammed in their hand, knives hidden in their trench coats.

_Crap…_

"You have five minutes," the black man growled.

Black, obsidian eyes widened, his back arched back, his body stretched out, all his weight on his hands that were flat on the rough cement, and on his feet that were jammed inside sneakers forcefully.

With all his might, L stood up and…RAN LIKE HELL!!

--

Near was trying his absolute hardest not to grin. The button square…thing…was still in his hand. The albino smirked as he set it down in the seat beside him.

Suddenly, L's figure appeared and he was…

Running…?...

L was running and three goons were following close behind, waving pipes high above their heads.

"Near! Open up!" L yelled.

Near clicked open the back door. L climbed in, slamming it shut behind him.

L twisted himself into the front seat, turning on the engine. Near clicked on his seatbelt, gazing to the mad hoodlums swiftly approaching.

Loudly, L's foot stomped on the gas, pushing the car forward roughly and loudly, a screech emitting throughout the hideout.

The last Near saw of the hoodlums was when the van was halfway into the sunlight outside, when he noticed the Mexican pick up the recorder.

Near smiled triumphantly as the van sped into the traffic filled distance.

--

"Yo, what're you watching?" Mello asked, drying his hair with a white towel, a black tank top hanging loosely over him along with black sweats.

The apartment smelled of rust as Mello plopped down beside his son on the torn couch as Near shrugged, flipping through the channels of the small TV Mello bought at a garage sale for half price.

Near stopped at a local news station's broadcast.

Mello dropped the towel, letting it drape from his shoulders.

"Hmm?"

It was fuzzy, yes, but the small frame of a frail woman appeared.

"The local gang activity has boosted ten percent in the last three months. Just yesterday, at approximately at three pm, Saturn Bank was robbed of five grand by seven masked men. The suspects are also suspected to be of three gangs that robbed Center just three weeks ago. Back to you Brian," Ms. Chee, the anchorwoman, ended.

"Wait, wasn't that…?" Mello raised an eyebrow, looking to Near.

Near picked up the remote and continued flipping through the three channels they had, going through them for the fiftieth time.

Mello sighed.

_What does he expect to change? We have THREE channels, not ten, not a hundred, THREE. _

Mello glanced back at his albino son.

_Is that why L slammed the door in my face when I asked him if he was babysitting tomorrow?_

…

_Oh well._

**end of day II **

* * *

**That took FOREVER! Too much work...ugh...Okay, some poll questions.**

**Pick a plot for me to wrie about when I finish _4 Days in the Pacific. _**

**A) It has been three months since Light's death, her hair is black, she is homeless, friendless, and without a job. One day, after wandering into an old church, she finds herself in a parallel world where Light is alive, as is L and Watari, Matt and Mello, the mafia, Near, the SPK, and the Task Force. But Light isnt Kira so...who is? Misa, as the retired second Kira, may be more involved than she thought. Misa/?**

**B) Misa has been kidnapped and by Mello of all people. Will she escape or die? And how did Mello know that she is the second Kira? Will hate turn into love or will Misa's heart become as cold as ice? Misa/Mello? Matt's there too!**

**C) Matt and Mello find a small child named Aru sitting in a cardboard box in an alley. But Aru has no memory of who she was? Who is this bounty hunter aiming to kill Aru and who's the girl with horns trying to save her? Matt/Mello (friendship people!)**

**So, choose A, B, or C. Come on, I've been taking tests non-stop!**

**To give me more time, I won't update until I have 11 reviews. And if you like Matsuda, emperor penguins, and wackiness, review. That's a hint for what's to come.**

**Till I have 11 reviews, see ya!**


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